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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28107150">Bound to Shadows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signed_Heart/pseuds/Signed_Heart'>Signed_Heart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Mild Smut, Not Epilogue Compliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:14:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28107150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signed_Heart/pseuds/Signed_Heart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after Voldemort's victory, the defecting children of Deatheaters create their own side to this war. They weren’t the light or dark really, they were more like the shadows. They would be in the light if the dark hadn’t stood in their way. </p><p>The old ways of blood purity are long gone as the leader of this new army falls for a half-blood Light side soldier and her best friend continuously collides with the Light side's muggleborn leader. </p><p>Constantly being surrounded by death and dismay, they do what it takes to feel alive.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bound to Shadows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Draco Malfoy sat at the edge of the camp base...waiting. Waiting for the destruction that always came back after a rescue mission. He used to be out there on the frontlines as well, but after four years of fighting and gaining medical skills he became their lead healer. So now instead he stayed behind to heal the worst of the worst. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>It had been four years of Dark Side vs Light Side. No one else knew what to call the bands of people, it wasn’t as simple as everyone against the Deatheaters anymore. Families had been torn in half as some followed Voldemort and others didn’t. While the Dark Side gained many who were scared, joining just to be on the winning side, there were a lot of Dark Side defects as well. Prominent pureblood families faced this at an astounding rate. It’s almost funny how growing up under the Dark Lord’s thumb made you hate him and the cause. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Pansy fled she took Draco with her. She was his best friend and he knew he would follow her into this unknown and scary world. Together they spoke up, gained more power and people from both sides of the war. They created their own side, as no one on the Light Side trusted them. Instead they continued to help the light side, even if they didn’t get help in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They weren’t the light or dark really, they were more like the shadows. They would be in the light if something dark hadn’t stood in their way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was fidgeting with his wand, sparks flying in every direction as he bounced it off his leg. They had gotten word that the main base camp of the Light Side had been attacked viciously this morning and Draco had gotten word that he was to wait to tend to their leader who had been gravely injured. The Golden Trio had split three ways, knowing that sticking together would increase the target they placed on others’ heads. Potter had taken the battlefront, armed with aurors and the majority of the Order members. Weasley had taken to a nomadic group, constantly moving to attempt to gain resources and get the upper hand. And Granger had taken up the main stationary base, keeping up on research and battle plans. The spot had been very well hidden, but this morning something went wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy had gone out with the rescue mission, something she didn’t typically do but had special reasons for today. She had been in a relationship with the man who was part of that Light side camp for two years now. He was how they got information, and the reason the Light side was slowly starting to trust them. She knew he would be there when the carnage started. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She wasn’t wrong. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>When she and the others returned, it was nearly everyone who had apparated someone else from the base in. The depredation had been swift and deadly. For every person they brought back, there were two more left behind dead or dying. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pansy approaches Draco, calm from the outside but he knew her better than that. The fear and fire in her eyes telling him everything. “Help him,” she gasps as she falls into his embrace, “please.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’ll do my best,” was all he could promise her as she pulled him into the medical tent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finds the man clinging to life and he set to work, trying his best to make sure his best friend wasn’t left without someone she loved. They all needed that someone now more than ever. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After 30 minutes of spellcasting and manual manipulation, he pushes away. His bones stiff and his mind like gelatin. Overworked and uncomfortable. “He’s...as stable as I can get him to be.” His voice just barely above a whisper, “ Pans… I really tried.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll pull through,” she swallows hard. “You’ve never disappointed me before. I believe in your skill and his willpower.” She looks away as she brushes away the fresh tears that added to the stains in the dust and ash that covered her face still. “Besides, there are others that need your attention.” She motioned to the corner of the room where the leader of the Light side’s body was unmoving on a cot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t hide the hiccup in his sharp intake of breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s alive, but is in desperate need of help.” They move to her side. “We should find somewhere else for her to recover,” she clips out, watching the other woman’s ragged breathing. “If she wakes up surrounded by the injured, if she sees how bad it truly is...she’ll never forgive herself for allowing this to happen to her people.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He doesn’t think that’s fair, “Pans…”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She bristles, “I’m not saying that I think it is her fault. That’s just how any good leader thinks. It’s how I would feel if this happened here. That it would be my fault for not keeping you safe.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He nods, understanding, and once again relieved that he isn’t in charge. “I can take her in.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you will. You always have been a bit infatuated,” she lets out a sad laugh, rolling her eyes when she starts to see Draco protest. “If your father hadn’t filled your head with so much bullshit so early on, you may have been happy together.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Happy</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the word rolls of his tongue like he’s speaking an unknown dialect. But, he doesn’t argue because he knows she’s telling the truth. They were well matched in every way except the one that mattered the most, which side they were born on.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was nearly dusk by the time Draco had finished healing her as much as possible. There was only so much magic could do, the human body had to do the rest. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He didn’t want to jostle her too much until she was awake and he could assess how bad off she really was, but he moves her carefully to his own bed. After hours of work he forces one last potion down her throat, one to revive her from her slumber. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyelids stuck together slightly as she cracks them open. Pain is everywhere, but at least she is finally conscious. She hears movement to her side and slides her eyes to face it, seeing a  blurry image of a tall man crouched near her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice is gruff when he speaks to her, "Can you hear me?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>A groan is all she can reply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good enough,” a sigh,  “I need you to strip off." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her head snaps up and it's the most activity he's seen out of her. It gives him a glimmer of hope that their side will be okay. But he also knows just how fierce their leader is, that no matter what pain she's in she'll stand for them. "No," she finally grinds out through her teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He realizes she has the wrong impression. It had been a long day and he was tired, not thinking his words through. He knows she probably can’t see him well, no idea who it is. And if she did, would that comfort or terrify her? "At least your outer clothing, I need to see your body." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She straightens her back, hearing her spine pop and groan as she does. "Don’t touch me," her nostrils are flared and the fight from her eyes that had dimmed before is there, in blazing glory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He puts his hands up, stepping into her blurry line of site, thinking of how he should have said injuries instead of body. But currently her entire body was littered with them, he'd be seeing everything. It didn't matter what she had under those clothes, it would be sickening for him to find pleasure in the destruction that lies on and under her skin. He sees where a bandage around her midsection has bled through and he swallows hard. "I just need to see your injuries," there he said it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Injuries. </span>
  </em>
  <span>"I'm not here to make advances on you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinks hard a few times, rubbing at her eyes as she starts to focus on the image in front of her, of who is in front of her. There is an intake of breath and a bit of silence before she speaks again. "Why not?" And he's confused when she looks offended. "Is my blood not good enough for you suddenly?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes widen at her accusations, then narrow at her annoying stupidity. "If you haven't noticed, Granger, we're fighting with you. We’ve been fighting with you. We fight for the Light."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That doesn't mean sh-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That," his voice bellows, loud and clear, "means everything. And you should know that by now. You don’t get to sit here, in my bed, and argue with me after I just spent hours trying to make sure you didn’t die. Trying to keep that blood of yours in your body, no matter what kind it is.” His jaw flexed as he bit down on his words. “If blood status meant something would my best friend, </span>
  <em>
    <span>our leader</span>
  </em>
  <span>, be in her tent now sobbing over the body of a half blood Light soldier who has nearly no chance of making it? Who even if he does, won't make it </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole</span>
  </em>
  <span>? No, Granger. Our fight has nothing to do with some stupid bigotry. We're fighting against </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> now." He was panting as his rage dimmed, his eyes shining with hatred for the abomination who ruined his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes are closed, silent tears running down her face. Draco believes they aren't tears of sadness but ones of frustration and confusion. She brings a hand to the buttons of her thick green flannel shirt. She's not looking at him as she pushes the material from her shoulders. She has nothing on underneath other than the wrappings of her wound, the wrappings he had put there, but didn’t dare to move her clothing out of the way any further. She refuses to move her eyes away from the ground as she stands there in front of him, naked from the waist up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stifles a gasp as he takes in her image. Her naked breasts are what he notices last, a scar breaks the flesh across the swell of one. First comes the large bandage on her, wrapping around the small part of her torso. The tightened wrappings only highlight the way her ribs protrude, looking like they could pierce her skin if she bent too far. Only her wound had been cleaned, the rest of her upper body was covered in mud, ash, and blood. Since he had to keep popping in and out to tend to others, he simply hadn’t had the time to give her the care she needed, the care she deserved. There were others dying and just not enough healers. And he wouldn’t let anyone else touch her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reaches out a hand, tentative fingers ghosting over her ribs. She jumps back but she won't look at him. Her mouth is opened and her breathing uneven. She's embarrassed of what she has put on display. She knows it doesn't look good, she's skin and bone and dirt and blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come with me," he whispers, the hand that had been on her ribs turns her around and softly guides her to a side of the room. She has to take a few steps out of his tent and he shields her body from anyone that could be looking, draping a towel across her shoulders and using his own bigger body to block out anyone's line of sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls back a curtain to a small pop up tent that is higher than it is wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco stands in the small room that was a makeshift shower house. His eyes are searching the woman in front of him. Hers are trained to the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That just won't do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand of his comes to rest softly on her collarbone, feeling the protruding bones under his palm, how the skin sinks in on top of them. His thumb makes its way under her chin, gently guiding her head upward. He ducks his own head to meet her eyes. "It won't do to have the leader of the Light looking down, looking broken. Stand tall before me, I mean you no harm." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods and leans into his palm that had come to rest on her cheek, his fingers leaving patterns in the grime on her face. Her eyes are soft and timid, but there's something under them again. A will, a way, a fight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods back before he lets go of her. He kneels at her feet, grabbing one of her wrists and placing it on his shoulder for balance. He starts unlacing her boots and pulls them off. He rolls down the thick cotton socks she has after that. When he stands up, he attempts to smile at her but it falters.  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans across her to turn on the shower. The handles squeak and the pipes groan as the water springs into action."Do you need help?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head and he turns to leave only to be turned back around by a whimper of pain and a soft "maybe." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sees her trying to unbutton her pants, but the belt buckle had melted shut from the heat of the fire she was in. He takes out his wand and breaks them apart, noticing the button on her pants was fused together as well he does the same to it. And when he breaks it free his fingers help push down the baggy pants from her hips. He can't stop himself from touching her as her hip bones come into sight, like her ribs, the skin over them seems too tight, like the bones might break through anytime. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She steps away from the trousers pooled at her ankles, she's left in just a pair of underwear - the only things that seemed to fit her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you okay?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again she nods but as she tries to bend she gasps, her eyes close in pain and she's standing there hunched over looking like she might fall. He grabs hold of her again, helping her stand upright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks defeated as she asks him something that greatly pained her, "Would you...would you stay and help me. I can't..." She doesn't need to say anymore because he nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers hook under the top of her underwear and she bites her lip, unsure of herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can leave them on if you want." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head, "No, I want to be fully clean. It's just as well..." She pushes them down to her thighs and wiggles a bit to make them fall to her feet, she steps out of them. He refuses to look anywhere but her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shuffles into the shower, leaving the curtain open for him. The look on her face when her body is enveloped by the warm water is as close to bliss as manageable in this situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watches her a bit before he sheds his own clothing. He's left standing in black pants and like her, his next move is unsure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you mind if..." He trails off as her eyes turn to him, widening suddenly as she rakes over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets out a soft sigh, "it'll even the playing field." </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He laughed on an exhale, “It’s not like it’s the first time…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stiffened slightly, “Oh, are we addressing that?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“We don’t need to,” he muttered, remembering an empty classroom long ago that housed two desperate kids looking to feel something. Not unsimilar to how it felt right now.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She hums as an answer, which turns to a sharp intake of breath as she attempts to rinse the dirt from her chest. “How is everyone?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He sighs, he knew she would start asking questions. “I don’t know, there are many wounded. Some dead, none of your inner circle.” He hated that, it felt like saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>none that mattered</span>
  </em>
  <span> even though they all mattered. But he knew she would want to know if it was anyone she was closer to.  “We pulled out as many people as we could find. But we’re sending our people out to look over the wreckage in the morning.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swallows hard. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>It sounds like it could have been worse</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she thinks to herself. Hissing again as she moves.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabs the cloth from her hand and helps her, agreeing to drop the subject. He washes most of her in silence as he thinks over the damage and scars littering her skin. He doesn't realize it, but his hand is cupping her breast, a thumb stroking the scar. "How?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks down at it, "Today wasn't the first time they used fire. This was an explosion. Scrap metal hit me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cupping had switched to massaging as his thumb moved over the scar. He was busy watching her, not noticing what he was actually doing. His need to comfort her was overwhelming him. He was sick of watching those around him hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leans her head back, water pounding on the flesh of her throat. Her eyes flutter shut and she lets out a soft breathy moan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That's when he realizes what he was doing and removes his hand immediately, "s-sorry!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is floored when he looks up to see her smiling from under her eyelashes at him, "It’s okay." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a step back from her but she follows, pressing her chest against his. Resting her head on the curve of his shoulder. "I'm so tired," she breathes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can sleep when I get you dried off," his hand has come up to rub absentminded patterns on her back. He's trying to think of the wounded woman, not the hardened nipples pressing into him. Trying to keep parts of him from inappropriately reacting to her closeness. Trying not to remember the last time the Light needed to relocate their basecamp and they spent two nights with them as they moved supplies. The second night, the bed they shared, the ability to feel for one more night before parting ways and pretending it never happened. Again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I mean I'm just tired of everything. The war. Death. Fighting. Thinking. I just want to feel something that is good. I just want..." She trails off, leaving him to guess whatever she was going to say. At this he pulls her closer to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he feels her lips on the base of his neck, leaving gentle kisses there. He's immediately ashamed of the hungered groan that is ripped from his chest. But then he feels her lips curve in a smile against his skin. "Granger..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hermione." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, eyes closed as her lips continue against his skin. He feels himself growing hard against her thigh but he doesn't try to keep it at bay this time. "Hermione," he adjusts, "I'm not going to...it'd be taking advantage of you." It’s different this time, she is too injured. She’s just lost too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nips at his wet skin, " I...I don't think I want that. Not yet anyway." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, happy she told him no. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But this," she leaves a trail of openmouthed kisses across the prominent line of his collarbone, "This is good. This is what </span>
  <em>
    <span>we’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> good at. I’ll tell you when it’s too much." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moans in response, a hand sneaking in between them to go back to her breast. She has kissed her way up his neck, no doubt leaving ugly marks on his pale skin, when he decides to do something different. He leans down and captures her lips with his. Both of them release a sigh of contentment. Both minds racing at what is happening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kisses are soft and slow, both of them deciding to keep it that way for fear of what might happen if they don't. But they're so nice that it doesn't matter that they won't advance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls his mouth away from her, moving to her neck to repay the tortuous delight she had done to him moments before. Her eyes are shut by the time he reaches her shoulders. He kisses her collarbone experimentally, she whimpers when his lips catch the skin over the bone, sucking slightly. He kisses lower, stilling for a second as to question her. She responses with a hushed moan as she bites her bottom lip. It's his turn to smile against her as he moves even lower. A series of kisses moving down the length of her scar. He knew if the roles were reversed he would think the scar ugly, but she had never been one for just appearances. Regardless she whimpers at his action. He moves his ministrations to one of the dusty pink peaks there and watches her from under his damp eyelashes, open mouthed she breathes raggedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chooses then to reach between them and touch him. His eyes roll back as she wraps her small hand around him. He’s ashamed at how hard he is at this moment. But it doesn't last long before he pulls away with a soft warning of, "Hermione." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knows the tone. "I just want to...it's not fair...." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bloody Gryffindors and their fairness. He's five seconds from giving in but he knows better. "No." His face softens again, "Let's get you out of here and into bed." He turns the water off before she can argue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leading her out of the shower he wraps her in the towel. He uses a quick drying spell on himself and gets dressed slowly. He curses himself for not bringing another towel, drying spells on the skin always makes it feel itchy and tight. But never would he had imagined he would have been naked with Hermione Granger in the shower like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabs his hand and he leads her back to his tent, again shielding her from view of others. He leads her to his bed, the one she had been resting on before, and sits her down. "Your clothes will need to be washed and repaired. Magic just doesn't get them clean enough when they're that dirty, so it will take a bit." He rummages through a small trunk and hands her a large shirt and pair of shorts. "Will this be okay for now?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She almost smiles as she takes the clothing, "Yes, thank you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes her dirty clothes and leaves the tent, off to deliver them to where the laundry is collected. It would be washed by hand there. When he returns he sees her snuggled into his bed, wearing his clothing. His mouth goes dry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We need to dress your wound again," he feels bad for making her get up again, but she does without argument. His hands are back in the trunk and he pulls out the bandages and some types of cream. She lifts his shirt covering her body and he carefully rubs on some of the cold cream. She flinches as he touches the deep gash. "Sorry," he mutters. Then he has her hold the end of the bandage as he wraps it around her snugly. A quick spell added over it, aiding in healing time. "Good?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She moves slightly, testing to see the tightness of it, "Good." She lets herself sink back down into his mattress. She watches him as he puts his equipment away. The sounds of clicking clasps and tape being ripped filling the air. She breaks that almost silence with an apology. “I’m sorry about earlier.” He takes in a sharp breath, preparing himself to be scolded for their actions earlier. “I know you don’t think that way anymore. Not after all of the stories I’ve heard about you saving my people.”</span>
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  <span>He smiles, happy that she was referencing something else. He finishes up and looks at her, “It’s okay. Trust me when I say that I understand why you would lash out.”</span>
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  <span>She hums softly, cuddled up in his small bed. Too small, not meant for two people, but he asks her anyway, "Would you mind sharing?" </span>
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  <span>She moves out of the center, pushing back the blankets and patting the mattress next to her. </span>
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  <span>He smiles as he strips his trousers and shirt, "This is okay?"</span>
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  <span>"It's your bed, Malfoy," she quips. </span>
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  <span>"Draco," he mutters as he slips in beside her. </span>
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  <span>She nuzzles against him, "Draco." </span>
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  <span>It was just an hour past dusk when the pair had fallen asleep in his bed. So it comes to no surprise to Hermione when she wakes up again in the early hours of the morning, still pitch black outside and oh so quiet. She was never one for sleeping long. She is surprised however to find that her bed partner was also awake, reading over something held in one hand while the other was mindlessly massaging a knot in her shoulder. The pain on his face is evident. </span>
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  <span>Hermione groans as his fingers dig into her skin, "You’re not the bad guy, you know?” </span>
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  <span>“What?” </span>
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  <span>She’s still half asleep, yawning as she looks up at him. “You have this kicked puppy look about you when you look at me. I’m only physically broken, not mentally. I’m allowing you to touch me out of my own fruition. And no one is here to tell you it’s wrong anymore.”</span>
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  <span>The old Hermione had only allowed him to touch her bare skin twice before. But now she was here again, trusting him to relieve pain instead of inflict it. </span>
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  <span>“Now hardly seems an appropriate time…”</span>
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  <span>She lets out a dark little chuckle, “We’re in the middle of a war. The only promised time is now.”</span>
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  <span>He swallows hard but doesn’t say anything. This is how the last two conversations went. He’s nervous, excited, and abashed all at once. His mind trying to grasp something, anything that puts his thoughts into words. But before he can he feels her relax against him again, asleep. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey there, </p><p>My therapist said I shouldn't use sexual intimacy as a comfort coping mechanism so I'm making my favorite characters do it instead. She doesn't need to know. </p><p>Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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